Ed Sheeran’s wife was diagnosed with cancer while six months pregnant with couple’s second child

It’s sometimes easy to forget that celebrities, for all their riches and star power, are the same as the rest of us. As a result, they’re subject to the same joys and sorrows, the same heartbreaks and shocks and tough times in life.

Perhaps we would do well to remember that the next time we’re jumping into sensationalistic headlines and believing rumors that crop up without any evidence. Celebrities are people too, and challenging periods come for them as well.

Don’t believe us? You need only look as far as Ed Sheeran, whose wife was cruelly diagnosed with cancer last year while pregnant with the couple’s second child.

He’s known worldwide as one of the most successful music artists of his genration, but Ed Sheeran’s had more than his fair share of worry in the last couple of years.

As per reports, he and wife Cherry Seaborn have been married since 2019, having initially gotten together in 2015.

Yet their worlds were turned upside down last year when Cherry was diagnosed with cancer while pregnant. Compounding Sheeran’s sense of woe was the fact that his best friend died that same month.

Speaking in his Disney+ docu-series Ed Sheeran: The Sum of It All, Sheeran explained: “Cherry’s health, it was really bad, and then suddenly my best friend Jamal dies.

“You guys said, ‘Do you want to make a documentary?’ And I went, ‘Yeah, it should be me in the studio and we’ll play the gig.

“That’s not what the documentary is.”

The camera than cuts to Sheeran in floods of tears as he travels in the back of a car.

Sheeran’s wife Cherry revealed in the same documentary that doctors discovered a tumor in her arm during the sixth month of her pregnancy.

“I got diagnosed with cancer at the start of the year….,” she said. “It made me massively reflect on our mortality. I would never agree to do anything like this, but it made me think, ‘Oh if I died, what’s people’s perception of me? What do you leave behind?’”

She continued: “For Ed, the whole point is he wants to say to people, ‘I’m not just this music machine. I’m not just this robot that tries to get No. 1. I’m a father, I’m a son, I’m a friend.’ It wasn’t until this year when I was like, ‘I might die.’”

Following months of worry, Cherry successfully delivered she and her husband’s second child. She underwent successful surgery to address the tumor in her arm shortly thereafter.

We can’t begin to imagine the worry that must have gripped Ed Sheeran upon learning his wife had a tumor while pregnant. Thank God everything turned out okay.

I Found a Decades-Old Christmas Gift Inside the Walls of My Late Parents’ House While Renovating – When I Opened It, I Went Pale

While renovating her late parents’ home, Janet discovers a decades-old Christmas gift hidden in the kitchen wall with her name on it! Inside, a VHS tape bears the chilling note: “This will change your life.” Watching the tape reveals a family secret that turns her world upside down.

I stood in what used to be my parents’ kitchen, a dust mask hanging around my neck, when the sledgehammer hit something that didn’t sound right.

A sledgehammer and broken drywall | Source: Midjourney

A sledgehammer and broken drywall | Source: Midjourney

The hollow thunk made me pause. Mom and Dad had lived in this house for 40 years before passing within months of each other, and now here I was, trying to turn their dated kitchen into something I could love.

The renovation project had started as a way to finally move past my grief. Two years had passed since my parents’ deaths, but every swing of the hammer felt like I was dismantling memories along with the old cabinets.

“That’s weird,” I muttered, lowering the sledgehammer.

A woman looking at a hole in the drywall | Source: Midjourney

A woman looking at a hole in the drywall | Source: Midjourney

The drywall crumbled away to reveal something that definitely wasn’t a stud or pipe.

Fragments of yellowed plaster scattered across my work boots as I reached in and pulled out a package wrapped in faded Christmas paper, covered in dancing snowmen that had long since lost their cheerful gleam. The paper was brittle, threatening to disintegrate under my touch.

My heart skipped when I saw my name, “Janet,” written in Mom’s flowing script.

An old, dusty Christmas gift | Source: Midjourney

An old, dusty Christmas gift | Source: Midjourney

The paper crackled under my fingers as I turned it over, trying to guess how long it had been hidden there.

The edges were soft with age, corners rounded from years pressed against unforgiving drywall. I scratched at one taped corner of the wrapping and the packaging tore apart, practically unwrapping itself.

The first thing I saw was a note that made my hands shake: This will change your life.

A woman holding a note | Source: Midjourney

A woman holding a note | Source: Midjourney

It was Mom’s handwriting again. Beneath the note was a VHS tape. I lifted it, turning it over in my hands.

“This was meant for me…” I muttered. “I have to know what’s on it.”

I rushed down to the basement. As I worked through the renovations, I’d stored anything useful down there so it would be out of my way, including my old TV with the built-in VCR player. I quickly found it in the corner and carried it upstairs to the living room.

An old TV on a floor | Source: Pexels

An old TV on a floor | Source: Pexels

The tape clicked into place, and the screen flickered to life. A small boy with bright eyes appeared, maybe seven or eight years old, reciting a poem I didn’t recognize. His smile was infectious, his whole face lighting up as he performed.

Then the image changed and I gasped. Mom and Dad, looking so much younger, sitting on our old floral couch. Mom’s hair was still completely brown, Dad still had his mustache. I’d forgotten how handsome he’d been.

“My darling Janet,” Mom began, her voice cracking. “There’s something we need to tell you.”

A woman on a sofa looking at something | Source: Midjourney

A woman on a sofa looking at something | Source: Midjourney

“Something we should have told you long ago.” She twisted her wedding ring nervously. “We just didn’t know how…”

Dad reached for her hand before speaking to the camera. “You were born with a heart defect, sweetie. A serious one. The doctors…” He swallowed hard. “They didn’t think you’d make it. Those first years were… we almost lost you so many times.”

“But then a miracle happened,” Mom continued, tears glistening in her eyes.

A woman staring in shock | Source: Midjourney

A woman staring in shock | Source: Midjourney

“The boy you watched at the beginning of this video… his name is Adam. He passed away unexpectedly and his family donated his organs. Janet, his heart beats in your chest. In their darkest moment, Adam’s family gave us the greatest gift imaginable: a future with you.”

I pressed my hand to my chest, feeling the long scar my parents told me was caused by a bad playground accident when I was a toddler, and the steady thump beneath my ribs.

Adam’s heart. Adam’s heart. All these years, I’d carried this piece of someone else’s story without knowing it. The scar had been there all this time, but I’d simply accepted my parents’ explanation.

A shocked and sad woman on a sofa | Source: Midjourney

A shocked and sad woman on a sofa | Source: Midjourney

“You were too young to remember the surgery,” Dad explained. “We wanted to tell you so many times but it never felt like the right time, so we decided to give you this tape to explain everything.”

“We hope you’ll remember Adam and honor his memory. You became our Christmas miracle because of him.”

The video ended, and I was left sitting there, staring at the screen in disbelief. My body felt like it was floating, disconnected from everything around me.

A woman on a sofa reeling from shock | Source: Midjourney

A woman on a sofa reeling from shock | Source: Midjourney

Eventually, I snapped out of shock, pulled out my phone, and called Lisa. My older sister had always been my first call in moments of crisis, real or imagined.

“Hey sis, I… I just found something hidden in the wall in Mom and Dad’s house,” I said.

“Please tell me it’s not black mold,” Lisa replied. “Or mice. Remember that nest we found in the attic when we were kids?”

“It’s nothing like that. It’s… a Christmas present. A VHS tape. Lisa, I don’t understand what I’ve just seen. Did I get a heart transplant when I was a kid?”

A woman speaking on her cell phone | Source: Midjourney

A woman speaking on her cell phone | Source: Midjourney

“Oh my God,” Lisa breathed over the phone. “You found it… stay right there, I’m coming over right now.”

Lisa hung up before I could ask anything more. I watched the video again and around 15 minutes later, the front door burst open and Lisa rushed in. The first thing she did was pull me into a tight hug.

“I’m so sorry, Janet. I should’ve told you, but… after everything that happened…”

“So, you knew about this? All this time?” I whispered.

A distraught woman looking at someone | Source: Midjourney

A distraught woman looking at someone | Source: Midjourney

Lisa sank onto the couch beside me, her shoulders slumping. “I was twelve when it happened. I remember sitting in the hospital waiting room with Grandma, praying harder than I’d ever prayed before. That’s the real reason why you need those pills you take, they prevent your body from rejecting the donor heart.”

My jaw dropped. Mom and Dad told me those pills were for an entirely different health issue.

A woman glancing to one side with a shocked expression | Source: Midjourney

A woman glancing to one side with a shocked expression | Source: Midjourney

Yet another clue that had been in front of me all this time, another lie I’d never questioned.

She took a shaky breath as she looked at Mom and Dad, frozen on the TV screen. “Mom and Dad wrapped this tape years ago, planning to give it to you on your eighteenth birthday. But Grandma stopped them.”

“What? But why?”

Two women having a conversation | Source: Midjourney

Two women having a conversation | Source: Midjourney

Lisa shook her head. “She said you weren’t ready, that it would traumatize you. She took the gift from them and hid it somewhere — I guess now we know where.”

“In a wall? She put it in a wall?

“You know how she was. She probably put it there thinking fate would lead you to it once you were ready.” Lisa squeezed my hand. “She loved you so much. Maybe too much. After nearly losing you as a baby, she couldn’t bear the thought of causing you any pain, even if it meant hiding the truth.”

Two women having a serious conversation | Source: Midjourney

Two women having a serious conversation | Source: Midjourney

I thought about Grandma, and how she’d hover when I played sports, making me take breaks I didn’t need. All those moments took on new meaning, weighted with understanding I’d never had before.

“I have someone else’s heart,” I said slowly, testing the weight of the words. “Every birthday I’ve celebrated, every milestone, every heartbreak and triumph… it was all because of him.”

“You have Adam’s heart,” Lisa corrected gently. “And it’s the strongest heart I know. It’s carried you through everything and helped you become this amazing person. That’s what organ donation is about: life continuing, love extending beyond loss.”

Two women speaking while seated on a sofa | Source: Midjourney

Two women speaking while seated on a sofa | Source: Midjourney

I rewound the tape, watching the little boy again. He couldn’t have known, reciting his poem, that he was creating this message for a stranger who would carry his heart.

“I need to find his family. To thank them. To…” I trailed off, uncertain. “What if they don’t want to hear from me? What if it’s too painful? They lost their child — maybe they don’t want a reminder.”

Lisa considered this, her nurse’s compassion showing through. “But what if they’ve spent years wondering about the little girl who received their son’s heart? What if knowing you, seeing how you’ve lived, helps them feel their choice meant something?”

A woman frowning while deep in thought | Source: Midjourney

A woman frowning while deep in thought | Source: Midjourney

With the help of my parents’ old records and Lisa’s internet sleuthing, we found Adam’s parents still living just two hours away.

It took weeks to gather the courage to contact them. I put together a Christmas basket — a nod to the hidden gift that revealed the truth.

Standing on their porch, my heart — Adam’s heart — pounding, I almost turned back. The basket felt inadequate, my words insufficient for the magnitude of what I needed to express. Then the door opened.

A woman on a porch holding a gift hamper | Source: Midjourney

A woman on a porch holding a gift hamper | Source: Midjourney

I found myself looking into eyes I recognized from the video. Adam had had his mom’s eyes.

“Hello,” I managed, my voice barely a whisper. “My name is Janet, and I…”

But Adam’s mother was already reaching for me, tears streaming down her face. “I know exactly who you are, Janet. We hoped this day would come when one of you would reach out to us. We’ve been waiting for so long.”

As she pulled me into a hug, I felt the steady beat in my chest strengthen, as if recognizing its first home.

Close up of an emotional woman's face | Source: Midjourney

Close up of an emotional woman’s face | Source: Midjourney

On a December afternoon, much like the one when they lost their son, we began to heal wounds we didn’t even know we had.

Some gifts, I learned, are worth waiting for — even if they’re hidden in walls, wrapped in faded paper, holding truths that change everything.

And sometimes the greatest gift isn’t in the revelation itself, but in the way it connects us to the stories we never knew we were part of, the lives that touched ours in ways we’re only beginning to understand.

A woman smiling while staring up at the sky | Source: Midjourney

A woman smiling while staring up at the sky | Source: Midjourney

This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.

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